Dead is Dead
by counting down the days
Summary: this is Charlaine Harris first book of the Sookie Stackhouse series from Bill Compton's point of view. if you have only read the first book, please note **spoil alert** i hope you all like it


Bored.

I can feel the blood fill my mouth. Bland. At lease it's warm and not the bottle shit. He's moaning. I hate it when my food moans.

I'm done.

I push this sad excuse of dinner away.

"Mr. Compton?" he asked startled.

Bored.

I watch everyone else; kissing in between bites, smearing blood across cheeks and lips. Some of the humans are touching themselves.

"Bill?"One of them asks. I look at her. "Done already?" I nod. She gestures to my discard and he happily sprints over. I want to leave.

"Mr. Compton." Someone calls after a moment. He's over by the door, beaching me to go with him. I can tell he's one of the Queen's gofers. All I can do is get up and follow him. Heaven forbid I go against the Queen.

Even so, this isn't normal.

We walk down a long corridor to a pair of huge doubles. They open as we approach. There she is. 'My Queen.'

It's a constructed sun room, with artificial light. In the center of the room, she's laying across a Victorian style chaise. Some head is bobbing in between her legs.

"Mmm," she mummers. When she sees me enter she taps the head. A little blonde girl stops and hurries out of the room; wearing nothing but a smile.

The Queen stands, adjusts her skirt and slanters towards me. She's wearing pearls and diamonds. Theirs a details ring on her left hand that looks like it has a family crest. There's a crown of prefect red curls atop of her head. She's too skinny for my personal taste. Even so, her dress is too tight.

"William." She exclaims. She places he hand on my shoulder. I've seen this gesture before. It's not quite a challenge, I guess closer to a declaration. With her wrist being this close to my face, I can smell her blood. It's strong. She much older then me. She's in charge of this conversation and she wants me to know it.

"My Queen." I reply nodding my head slowly.

Queen my ass.

"William, a little bird tells me you're not happy." She says cooing at her cage of white canaries. "It won't do."

I have no idea what to say. I just continue to stand.

"This same little bird tells me in your human life you lived in Bon Temps."

"That information is correct." I say softly.

"Your house is still there." Her statement catches me off guard. I haven't checked on it in a long time and I have been wondering. "And I bought it."

Bitch.

"It'll make a good home for you, your majesty." I force the words out.

"I don't want it William." She snorts.

"Then why?..." I blurt, confused. The Queen doesn't do random acts of kindness.

"Would you like to go back? Maybe start your mainstream life?" starring at me.

"I'll be and live where ever my Queen needs me." I retort cautiously.

"Cut the polite servitude shit." She snaps her voice over powering and strong. "Answer me."

"I would like that, very much." What is she getting at?

"Good, cause you're going back. You're going to live in that house and while your there, you'll do me a little favor." I open my mouth. "Out of polite servitude and of course gratification of me saving your precious colonial." She blinks. She has me by the balls.

"Ill do anything you ask me to." If I had a heart, it would be hammering in my chest.

"I have a babysitting job for you. With perks." She begins to explain. "A human female." She grabs a file off the ground next to her chaise. She hands it to me. "Her name is Sookie Stackhouse. She lives next door to your new place. Old place?" the Queen looks off, thinking about the statement. Shaking it off, "she is of utmost importance to me." I open the folder. It's a bunch of information about her history, her family, and a few article clippings about her as a child. I began to read the docted of her current information, where she works, her bank account number and so on.

"You will keep her safe," the Queen continues. "No harm." She points for finger at me like she's scolding a child.

"Whets so important about her?" I ask out loud before I could stop myself.

"That, my dear William, is exactly what I need you to find out." She coos softly.

I look over the papers and information again.

"You must be sure to have her drink from you. And get her talking. I don't care if you glamour her into spilling her guts. But she needs to stay safe and alive." The Queen rambled on. "You are also prohibited to drink from her."

"If you do this, William, you will get your house. Watch her for me, get information for me until I collect her and I will leave you entirely alone for the rest of my reign. Do you except?"

"Yes, I'm at your service." I answer, maybe a little too quickly.

"good." She exasberates. "Car!" she calls. The same gofer enters, standing waiting. I start to walk towards the man. "William," the Queen states, stopping me in my tracks.

I turn to her.

"No one is to know of our agreement. Understood?" I nod. "I picked you because you have a legitimate reason to be there, to be close. No eyebrows raised. Keep it that way. I don't care if you put on the façade of a romantic relationship; but don't let people ask 'why is he with her?' 'What does he want?' those questions are bad. I can not have anyone looking into this." I nod again, my own curiosity peeked. "Oh and if she dies William, you will attend her funeral, during the day." Again I nodded.

She handed me a key, obviously to a car. "incentive." She cooed. She turned and stalked back to the chaise. "Dawn is in three hours. Hurry, hurry."

The gofer started to walk and I followed. He led me to the side door of the Queen's mansion. There was a black Cadillac. New.

I started to drive. I know this drive very well.

Now I'm a bored babysitter. Great.

What's so special about this Sookie Stackhouse? I look at the picture paper clipped to the inside of the folder. How much trouble could she possibly get into?


End file.
